


An Excessive Amount of Politeness

by Tye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, because love triangles are dumb, let these kids be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tye/pseuds/Tye
Summary: Or: What if Harry, Cho, and Cedric all went to the Yule Ball together?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Cyan for Beta-ing/Brit-picking!

Harry’s most recent, recurring nightmare goes like this: everyone has a date to the Yule Ball except for him.

_ Everyone. _ Every single living, breathing person in the entire castle has a plus one. Harry's left with no choice but to ask Moaning Myrtle. The whole school gawks as they dance their opening number, causing Myrtle to snivel and translucent, ghost snot to drip from her nose. Then his golden egg-- that he brought to the ball for reasons which only make sense in dream logic-- falls out from under his robes. It rolls and rolls across the dance floor until it reaches the feet of Draco Malfoy. He picks it up, and with a sinister smile, hurls it out the window and into the lake. Myrtle wails as it's swallowed up by the giant squid.

It’s weird, but in a way it’s nice to have normal nightmares about normal teenage things. His usual fare involve visions of a dark, half dead wizard and a pain like a hot brand pressed to his forehead. Still, he wants to tell his subconscious to knock it off with the reminders to get a date. He already gets an anxiety-inducing amount of them in his waking hours. Professor McGonagall’s been on his tail about a dance partner. Fred and George shoot him goofy looks whenever a quote, “eligible bachelorette” walks within 10 feet of him. Ron’s peppered him with bits of advice-- though it’s questionable since he hasn’t asked anyone either-- and Hermione’s grown less and less sympathetic with him each passing day.

In short: he needs to get his act together and ask Cho. It’s one question. One sentence, eight words.  _ Will you go to the ball with me?  _ Like everyone keeps saying-- the worst she can do is say no.

_ Accio the courage to ask Cho to the Yule Ball. _

“Accio potions essay.”

Harry waits with an outstretched hand for his parchment to come whooshing at him. He’s greeted with silence and a big, fat nothing. He grimaces. His eighth attempt at a summoning spell is just as unsuccessful as his first seven.

“Still no luck mate?” Ron looks up from his Divination homework and gives him a sympathetic look. “I’ll let you copy mine if you want.”

At the mention of the word ‘copy’, Hermione breaks her gaze from her Ancient Runes textbook to shoot them one of her signature glares. Brows furrowed, lips pursed, eyes stone cold. Ron squirms in his armchair and his ears turn bright red.

“Thanks Ron,” Harry says, “but I think Snape will notice if we both hand in the same essay. It’s not worth us both getting detention for.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, and my essay’s a load of rubbish anyway.” He flashes Hermione a wide-eyed, woeful look. “Maybe if someone were to give it a read, y’know, check that everything’s up to snuff… it won’t be so dreadful.”

“Yes Ron, I will look over your essay tonight.” Hermione says. Her eyes stay glued to her textbook. “And Harry, do you remember the last place you had your essay?”

“Um… the library, I think.”

“Then why don’t you have a look there?”

Outside the portrait hole Harry makes one last-ditch attempt at summoning his essay. If it isn’t in Gryffindor Tower, then it wouldn’t have been able to get it past The Fat Lady. A piece of parchment can’t recite the password, after all. But once again he turns up empty handed -- literally. Harry sighs, tucks his wand into his pocket, and heads off for the library.  

Harry’s found at this time of year everyone retires to their common rooms early. It’s a combination of the dwindling daylight, chilly weather, and extra homework their professors pile on before the holiday break.  All the usual chatter and noise die away after the sun dips below the horizon. He passes a group of second years trading chocolate frog cards, then two ghosts deep in discussion about some medieval warlock he’s never heard of but could probably find in his History of Magic textbook.

And then it’s nothing but empty hallways. If it weren’t for the crackling torchlight and his footsteps, he’d swear someone cast a silencing spell on every corridor. He doesn’t spot another soul until he’s heading down the main staircase. There, standing next to an enormous Christmas tree, is Cho Chang.

Harry’s almost trips over the trick stair. He does a double take to make sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. They aren't. Cho’s really standing there, reading a piece of parchment with a tiny grin. Her whole face seems to glow under the soft Christmas lights. And she’s alone. No people, no ghosts, no wandering Mrs. Norris. lf he had The Marauder’s Map the nearest person would show up floors away.

Harry scrambles down the stairs before they spin off in the opposite direction.

“Hey Cho.”

Cho looks up from her parchment and her smile broadens. He tries to keep calm but his heart is hammering and his hands go cold and clammy. He stuffs them into his pockets. Merlin, why is he so nervous?

“Hi Harry.”

“Err… how are you doing?”

“I’m all right, what about you?”

“Good. I’m uh… I’m doing okay.”

And now the pleasantries are out of the way. Here’s the part where he asks her to the ball. But his throat is bone dry, his tongue won’t move, and the passing silence is veering into awkward territory.  _ The worst she can do is say no,  _ he repeats in his head.

“Cho-”

“So... are you my secret admirer?” Cho asks.

“Err… sorry?” Harry hopes she doesn’t notice his reddening face.

“Oh.” Her face falls, “I got this letter this morning. I was sort of hoping it might be from you.”

Cho holds up the parchment. He leans in to read it, squinting In the dim light. In handwriting far neater than his, the letter asks Cho to meet them under the big Christmas tree at seven o’clock this evening. Harry glances at an ancient grandfather clock next to him. The little hand rests on VII, and the big hand hovers between XII and I.

“Sorry, I didn’t write your letter.” he says, “But there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Cho stares at him with expectant eyes, her lips parted just so. Harry’s caught off guard by how nice she smells. Like flowers and Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish. He takes a deep breath. His nerves are going to eat him alive if he doesn’t spit it out already.

“Err… Cho, would you--"

But he’s cut off by a set of heavy footsteps clambering down the stairs. He and Cho jump back-- were they really standing so close?-- and they squint at the figure at the bottom of the stairs. Cedric Diggory is pink-faced and out of breath, holding a bar of Honeyduke’s chocolate in one hand and a single, red rose in the other.

“Cho, I am so sorry for making you wait. Those damn staircases. I’ve gone to school here for six years, you think I’d know how they work by now.”

Well, there’s one mystery solved. Cedric is Cho’s secret admirer. Harry’s struck by two thoughts. One, Cedric's plan to get her alone with a letter is bloody brilliant. He’s kicking himself for not thinking of it first. And two, he can’t believe he’s gone and stolen Cedric’s spotlight again. First the Triwizard Tournament, now this. Cedric had this all planned, and he stumbled in at the right time to wreck the whole thing.

Cedric flashes them a boyish grin. Harry’s reminded of how his smile makes the girls on his Quidditch team swoon. Even he feels a little weak in the knees. Did someone add an extra log to the fire, or was it always this warm in here?

Harry blinks and shakes his head. Cedric’s only smiling at Cho, not the both of them. And Cho is grinning back.

“Uh... nevermind, Cho.” Harry says, “It’s not important.”

“Oh no. I’m not interrupting, am I?” Cedric asks.

“Honestly, it’s nothing.”

“Really, I don’t mind. Go ahead and finish your conversation.”

Cedric and Cho give him a reassuring smile. And Harry’s trapped. It’s too late to bolt up the staircase without looking like he’s about to be sick-- or worse, rude. Damn Cedric and his politeness. Can’t he see he’s trying to do him a favor?

“Well… I was going to ask you to the Yule Ball, Cho, but I think that’s what you’re about to do, Cedric, so uh… yeah.”

Harry winces and rubs the back of his neck. He’s not sure where to go from here. Probably the best thing to do is leave and let them get on with it. Maybe it will sting less if he doesn’t have to watch. If he doesn’t hear Cedric saying the same words he’s rehearsed in his head for weeks. If he doesn‘t see Cho’s delighted response. 

_ The worst she can do is say no.  _ What a load of rubbish that turned out to be. Harry turns on his heel, but only manages a few steps before Cho calls after him.

“Harry, forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it my decision who I take as my date?”

Harry stops walking.

“Yeah, but--"

“So let me decide.”

Cho’s gaze flicks between them. First at him, then Cedric, and repeat. She’s toying with him, biting at her thumbnail and not saying a word. Either that or she’s coming up with a gentle way to let him down. She’s going to pick Cedric. It’s hardly a competition. He’s older, taller, more handsome, probably a better dancer too. He showed up with chocolates and flowers, not ink-stained hands and robes with too short sleeves. His hair doesn’t stick up like he just flew a dozen laps around the quidditch pitch. Instead it falls disheveled in that nice, tousled way Harry envies.

“I’m sorry.” Cho says, “I don’t who know to choose. I like both of you a lot.”

“Then go ahead and take Harry.” Cedric says, “It’s only fair, he asked you first.”

“No-- I didn’t ask first! You did with your letter.”

“That doesn’t count. Really it’s fine. You were right about to ask when I barged in.”

“Yes, but the only reason I tried asking is because Cho was alone. And the only reason Cho was alone is because you set it up.”

“Oh please, I don’t want you to argue over me.” Cho says, “There’s got to be a good solution to this. I mean, I think I’d have a fun time going with either of you. If there was a way to take both of you, I would.”

“Then why not take both of us?” Harry blurts, without thinking. He fights the urge to clasp his hands over his mouth.

It’s only after the words escape his lips and float in the air around them does he realize what a lousy idea he’s come up with. They can’t  _ both  _ take Cho to the Ball. How would this even work? There must be a rule somewhere that says only one date is allowed per person. Sure, Cho says she can’t choose between them, but that doesn’t mean she wants two dates. And Cedric doesn’t want to share his date with someone else. Harry braces himself for the scoff and disapproving shake of the head they’re bound to give him.

But Cedric and Cho exchange a glance and share a relieved smile.

“I think that’s a great idea, Harry.” Cho says, “I could spend part of the evening with each of you. Or we could go as a group? What do you think, Cedric?”

“Sounds perfect! Can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled.” Cho says.

“I guess so.” He says. And he’s smiling along with them, all the tension in his shoulders gone. For the first time since Professor McGonagall announced the ball, he’s actually looking forward to going.

“Oh, before I forget, these are for you.” Cedric holds up the rose and chocolate bar. He offers them to Cho, but his eyes lock with Harry’s and he bites his lip. “I guess I should split these up, huh?”

Harry reaches for the chocolate bar, his hand mere milliseconds faster than Cho’s. Her hand rests atop his, while his hand is on Cedric’s.

“Oh, do you want--" Harry says.

“No, go ahead.”

“It’s fine, I’ll--"

“I insist.”

Harry takes the chocolate bar and hands it to Cho, ending the discussion. Which leaves him with the flower. Gingerly, he takes it. And it might be his imagination or a trick of the light, but a faint blush sweeps across Cedric’s cheeks.

Cho peels away the foil and breaks off three squares, keeping one and offering one to each of them. Harry grabs his with his free hand, but Cedric grins and shakes his head.

“No, I couldn’t. It’s a gift for you.”

“Cedric, I insist. I have plenty and I want to share.”

They go back and forth a few times before Cedric relents and takes the chocolate square. Harry can’t help but smile at them.

“Well, uh… cheers.” Cedric says. He holds up his square as though it was a glass of champagne. He and Cho follow suit.

This isn’t at all what Harry expected, but it works. They work.

\--

“So did you find your essay, Harry?” Ron asks.

It doesn’t appear Harry‘s missed much in his absence. Ron and Hermione haven’t moved from their place beside the fire. Hermione’s still scribbling furiously into a spiral notebook. Ron’s finished his Divination work-- or given up on it-- and is playing a game of wizard chess against himself.

“Err.. no,” he says, “But I did ask Cho to the Yule ball.”

Ron’s chess pieces whine as he drops his bishop, scattering a knight and several pawns across the board. Hermione’s quill comes to a halt, and it drips thick, black ink blots onto her parchment. They both stare at him wide-eyed and eager.

“Well, what did she say?” Hermione asks.

“She said yes.”

The two of them break out into huge grins. Ron gets up from his chair and claps him on the shoulder.

“Brilliant! I knew you could do it!” He says.

“Congrats Harry, I’m really happy for you!”

“Thanks.”

Harry flops into his armchair, kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and hides his face in his hands. His goofy, satisfied grin seems to be stuck to his face. 

It takes a moment, but their excitement calms down. Ron goes back to his game, muttering an apology to his chess set. Hermione waves her wand, casting a spell to remove the spilled ink, and carries on writing in a language that looks like utter nonsense to him. Harry reaches for his school bag. He undoes the front clasp, and a crumpled up piece of parchment shoots out, thwacking him in the face. So that’s where his essay’s been hiding. Lucky Ron and Hermione don’t notice. He smooths it out and intends to start up on it, but he can’t stop smiling. His brain only wants to think about the Yule Ball.  

“Err… Harry, why have you got a flower?”

Harry blinks. Ron’s voice pulls him out of his head and back into the moment. He’s been wearing a vacant smile and twiddling Cedric’s rose between his fingers without realizing.

“Oh. Cedric gave it to me.”

Ron and Hermione share a confused look, seeming to only communicate with their eyebrows.

“And uh… why did Cedric give you a rose?” Hermione asks.

“Because Cho wanted the chocolate.”

Harry launches into an explanation. How he and Cedric asked Cho to the ball at almost the same time. How they didn’t want to force her to choose between them. How he came up with their compromise. When he finishes Ron and Hermione still look as though someone stupefied them.

“So you’re going to the ball with Cho… and Cedric?” Ron asks.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean--" he sighs, “I’m going to the ball with both of them, but I’m only _ going _ to the ball with Cho. You know, as a date.”

“And Cho is also going to the ball with Cedric? As a date?” Hermione asks.

“Yes.”

“And you and Cedric?”

“Are not going together. At least, not like that.”

He wishes they would stop looking at him like he's some puzzle they need to solve. They’re making this needlessly complicated. His potions homework is complicated. His golden egg riddle is complicated. This isn’t complicated. He’s taking a pretty girl to the Yule Ball. And if another guy (who just so happens to be quite handsome himself) wants to tag along with them… 

Well, there are worse ways to spend an evening.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking there's only going to be one more chapter, but it might be two depending on how I split it up. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are appreciated! (and might make the next chapter(s) come faster ;) )


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again Cyan for doing the Lord's work and betaing/brit-picking.

Harry’s first Christmas present arrives a day early via one of the school barn owls. Two sugar quills and a chocolate truffle wrapped in gold foil fashioned to resemble a snitch, along with a silvery envelope with his name printed in blue ink. Across the hall at the Hufflepuff table, another owl drops a similar-looking parcel on Cedric’s plate. Harry glances over to the Ravenclaw table where Cho gives him a tiny wave and mouths the words “open it”.  

A letter wishes him a happy holidays, and asks that the three of them meet up ten minutes before the Ball under the enormous Christmas tree in the entrance hall. It's a fitting location, as it's the same place they had their awkward-turned-fortunate encounter a few weeks prior.

“What are you smiling at?” Hermione asks.

“Nothing,” Harry says quickly. He tries to pull his face together, but his goofy grin comes back full force when he reads the line “Lots of Love, Cho” 

After breakfast Harry stashes the letter in his trunk for safekeeping, next to Cedric's rose, which despite being about two weeks old still blooms vibrant red. The next evening when he gets ready for the ball, he considers pinning the flower to his dress robes, but decides against it. He's not sure he wants to admit to Ron, Hermione, or worse--  _ Cedric _ , that he's held onto it all this time.

Harry's dressed and ready to go with a half hour to spare. He paces in circles around his dormitory to work his nervous energy. He puts his hands into his pockets, takes them out, adjusts his glasses, has a momentary freak-out he's lost his watch-- only to find it's still snug on his wrist. 

“Harry, no offence, but your pre-date jitters are kind of distracting,” Ron says, looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he severs the lace ruffles off his dress robes. 

Harry takes this as his cue to leave. When he can't Hermione in the common room he heads down alone. The entrance hall is full to bursting with people. He’s never seen so many brightly colored robes outside of Madame Malkin's display window. He can’t hear anything over the hundreds of voices. Puffs of hazy, purple smoke shoot off around him as his classmates snap pictures with their wizard cameras. Harry squeezes his way through the throngs of people to get to their meeting place.

“Hi Harry!” Cedric grins and extends his hand. Harry’s never noticed before, but he has dimples. When their palms meet, He gets this flustered feeling in his stomach that's eerily similar to the one he gets when he looks at Cho. 

“Hey Cedric. Have you seen Cho yet?”

“Not yet, but it’s only quarter to eight. I didn’t want to be late again, so I got here a bit early.”

He and Cedric instinctively look over at the main staircase, only to find Filch in a musty set of dress robes carrying Mrs. Norris in his arms. 

Harry’s not sure where to go from here. He didn't plan on spending time alone with Cedric. He's not sure what the proper protocol is for their situation. Are they supposed to ignore each other?  Avoid eye contact at all costs? Pretend Cedric is a peculiar accessory Cho brought with her to the ball? Maybe if Cedric were some horrible Slytherin he'd do that, but-- well-- Cedric's grown on him. Maybe they could attempt something similar to his relationship with Ron and Hermione. Three friends, two happen to be boys, and one happens to be a girl. It could work-- if it weren’t for all the confusing, romantic feelings between them. He likes Cho, and he assumes since Cedric does too since he asked her to the Ball. And Cho likes… both of them? 

“So… had any luck with your egg?” Cedric asks.

“Uh… yeah. I reckon I’m close to solving it.” Harry shoots him his most convincing smile. He and Cedric are supposed to be rivals. He’d rather not let him in on how much this egg has him scratching his head.

“Really?” Cedric raises an eyebrow. Harry gets the sense he’s not fully convinced. “You sure you don’t want a bit of advice?”

“Oh, well, if you feel like sharing.”

“Try taking a bath,” Cedric says in such a low voice Harry's sure he didn't hear him right.

“Uh… excuse me?”

“Just… take a bath. With your egg. Mull things over in the hot water, it’ll help you think and stuff.”

Harry stares at him with furrowed brows. Is Cedric trying to help him, mess with him, or tell him he smells bad? His hint is only more helpful than the egg’s wailing in that his voice doesn’t give him a migraine. Before he can press him for more information, a pair of arms wrap around him from behind and squeeze his middle.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” Cho sing-songs, her voice very near his right ear. Obliviated from his mind are all thoughts of golden eggs, triwizard tasks, and everything except Cho’s chin resting on his shoulder and Cedric laughing at the pair of them.

Cho lets go of him to properly wish Cedric a Merry Christmas. When they hug the top of her head just barely touches his chin. Harry waits for a spark of jealousy him, an urge to pry Cedric off of her and keep them an arm’s length apart the entire evening. Instead he’s instead struck by a peculiar thought-- Cho and Cedric look good together. All he can do is stare at them, and wonder for the hundredth time what either of these two popular, talented, good-looking, quidditch players want to do with him.

"Well don't you two clean up nicely," Cho says, eyeing them both. “I love your dress robes, Harry. They match your eyes.”

"Thanks, you look really pretty too," Harry says.

Cho's silver dress robes are dotted with hundreds of gemstones that sparkle like stars. Her shiny, black hair is done up in a complicated top knot except for a few loose curls framing her face. Cho always looks pretty. Harry's seen her leaving quidditch practice sweaty and mud-spattered and had to catch his breath. He didn’t think it was possible she could get any prettier, but tonight she's proved him wrong in the best possible way. 

"Yeah, you look stunning Cho,” Cedric says. He can’t seem to take his eyes off her, and Harry can’t blame him.

“Oh-- well thank you,” Cho says. She stands on tiptoe to ruffle Cedric’s hair before turning to him. “So, I saw you and the Weasley brothers having a snowball fight this afternoon. Who won?”

Harry spares no detail in his retelling of the afternoon’s battle. As he recounts his attempt to bewitch a giant snowball to attack Fred and George from behind, Professor McGonagall approaches them.

“Potter, Diggory, the champions are lining up outside the main doors in ten minutes. I suggest you group up with your partners and make your way over.”

“Professor, my partner is--" Harry is about to say, "she's right here", but he stops cold. When Cho agreed to be his date to the Ball, he was so overjoyed and relieved that one important detail slipped from his mind. The opening dance. He and Cedric will need to have their own, separate partners.

Professor McGonagall him over with concern. “Yes Potter, your partner. You did tell me you found a partner, right?”

“Yes. Of course, Professor,” He smiles, trying his hardest to look sincere, but Professor McGonagall has a talent of seeing through bullshit. Her lips form a hard, thin frown, but she says nothing else before stalking off towards Krum and his date-- a girl he doesn’t recognize.

The three of them share a panic-stricken look. Cedric and Cho both look as though a bludger is streaking towards them and they don’t have time to dodge it.

“Damn, how did I forget about the opening dance?" Harry says, “Professor McGonagall nagged me about it for weeks, and I still forgot.”

“It’s not your fault. It totally slipped my mind too,” Cedric says.

“What about-- I can ask my friend Marietta to dance with one of you,” Cho says.

“Great idea! I’ve got a couple friends I can ask too," Cedric says.

“And I suppose I could ask Hermione,” Harry says, “Let's meet up at the doors in five minutes. Bring whoever you can get to say yes and we’ll work it out from there.”

Hermione’s date is a touchy subject, to put it nicely. Whenever Ron badgered her about it she’d get cross with him and stalk off. But Harry couldn’t care less how or with whom she spends her time at the ball. He just needs to borrow her for a few minutes to avoid looking like an absolute idiot. He’ll promise to pay attention in History of Magic or take on a more active role in SPEW if that’s what it takes. He’ll take an exasperated sigh from Hermione over an irate Professor McGonagall any day of the week.

But Hermione must be wearing his invisibility cloak. He searches the entire entrance hall and can’t find her anywhere. He’s got less than five minutes left. He’s not sure which is louder, his watch ticking down the seconds or his frantic heartbeat.  

Ron proves less difficult to find. Despite his best efforts, his old-fashioned dress robes stick out. The only one dressed more outlandish than him is his date-- a third year Ravenclaw Ginny set him up with-- who chose to don a wreath of enormous poinsettias on her head and dress robes of muggle traffic cone orange.

“Ron, have you seen Hermione?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, she’s over there. With her  _ date _ .” Ron spits out the last word as if it's poison, and makes a vague hand gesture towards the doors.

At first glance he wants to tell Ron to be more specific because, he doesn’t see her. Then he takes another look at the girl in periwinkle robes next to Viktor Krum. She looks familiar somehow. No-- could it be?

Hermione’s unrecognizable. Harry can’t say for certain, but this might be the first time he’s seen her in something other than her school robes. Her grin is nervous, but unwavering. Krum can’t take his eyes off her. It’s sweet how happy they both look. So much so, he almost doesn’t mind Hermione’s unavailable for the opening dance and he’s back to square one with finding a partner.

“What is she even doing with him?” Ron asks no one in particular. “She doesn't-- they haven’t-- I mean, she said he wasn't even that good looking!"

“Right, can we talk about it later?” Harry says, not bothering to mask his impatience. He has more pressing matters than whatever tangent Ron’s on. He turns his attention to his date. “Err… Luna, right?”

Ron’s date-- Luna-- nods.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

“No, not really,” she says, with such an air of nonchalance he’s taken aback.  

“Yeah mate, what gives? You’ve already got two dates, what do you need mine for?” Ron says, trying to frown but the corners of his mouth curl upward.

“That’s right, you’re going with Cho Chang,” Luna says, “I heard her talking about it this morning. Although, I thought she said last week she was going with Cedric Diggory.”

“She is. She’s going with both of us, and uh…” Keeping an eye on the clock, Harry explains his current predicament in as few words as possible. When he’s finished Ron bursts into a bout of hysterics which he tries-- and fails-- to mask as a series of loud coughs.

“Sorry Harry-- I know it’s not funny but…”

“Well, I think you’re all missing the obvious solution,” Luna says, “Harry, if Cedric’s also your date then you should dance with him.”

"No! It’s not-- we’re not--" Harry stammers, feeling his face heat up.

"I really don’t think Cho will mind, Harry. She’s quite open-minded you know."

Ron shrugs, "Cedric did give you a very nice flower."

“Oh nevermind,” Harry stalks off. Here’s hoping Cho and Cedric’s skills at persuasion are better than his. They both have large circles of friends. It shouldn’t be too difficult for them, right? But

He finds Cho friendless and distressed at the main door, and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. It’s amazing how just a few weeks ago he wanted desperately one moment alone with her.  

“Sorry Harry, I tried my hardest, but Marietta said no. She said she was too nervous to dance in front of the whole school.”

“It’s all right. Maybe Cedric will turn up with one of his friends." No sooner does he say it when Cedric approaches them with nothing but a frown.

“Well, I take it neither of you had any luck finding a partner then?” He says. 

“What about a duplication spell?” Cho says, “Do either of you know how to cast one?”

He shakes his head, as does Cedric. "That’s really advanced magic. Professor Flitwick says we won't cover it until next year."

The three of them jump as the clock bells clammer for eight o'clock. Professor McGonagall stands ten feet away talking to Fleur and Roger. At any moment she could look their way and know something is awry. She knows how to count after all. They’ve exhausted their time and all their options.

Well, there is  _ one _ option.

Harry looks over at Cedric, opens his mouth to speak, and-- he can’t find the words. His brain feels fuzzy, like he's been confunded. And he realizes-- he's nervous. The same kind of heart-racing, stomach-churning nervous he got when he asked Cho to the ball. Which doesn't make sense. This isn't the time for his nerves to get skittish, nor is it the person he should be skittish of.

"Err… Harry," Cedric smiles softly and scratches the back of his neck, "this is sort of an unconventional idea, but what would you think if you and I... uh..."

"If you and I danced together?" 

Cedric nods, looking bashful."I'd absolutely understand if you didn't want to but--"

"No, I'll do it!" He says, with more enthusiasm than he meant. "I mean-- as long as you’re fine with it, Cho."

Cho shrugs. “Why would I have a problem with you two dancing together?”

"Great! Then it's settled." Cedric grins and lets out a breath of relief.

They come to their decision not a moment too soon. Professor McGonagall is bustling over to them, no doubt about to question their odd number situation. Before she can get a word out, they launch into an explanation of their arrangement. Professor McGonagall listens, her expression growing more and more puzzled, until she holds up her index finger for them to stop.

"Potter, Diggory, as long as you've both found a dance partner, I don't need to know all the details of your personal lives."

The champions stand by the doors as everyone enters the Great Hall. They wait until everyone is settled before they make their grand entrance. Harry takes Cho’s right arm, Cedric takes her left, and they lead the procession inside. His classmates smile and applaud as they progress towards the top table-- where sit four of the triwizard judges and one smugly smiling Percy Weasley. 

When they choose their seats Harry again takes the spot at Cho's right, and Cedric to her left. Harry picks up the menu on his plate. He’s not sure what to do with it-- where are the waiters? Then he watches Dumbledore place his order of pork chops and he gets the idea.

“Goulash,” he says into his plate, enunciating his syllables so he doesn’t wind up with a plate of mush. He hears a soft pop, and his plate is filled with a hot, delicious smelling stew.

There's a chorus of murmurs as everyone places their orders, then pops as the food appears. Hermione nudges Roger Davies-- who's staring at Fleur and seems unaware of his surroundings-- and he at last notices the menu on his plate. His tablemates dig in to their dinners, all except Cho, who’s staring at her menu with a look of concentration.

“Not sure what you want?” Harry asks.

Cho shakes her head and laughs. “I think we’ve already established that I’m a bit indecisive. Everything sounds delicious.”

“Well if you're looking for a recommendation, the goulash is good.”

“It does look tasty. Mind if I try a bite?” 

Harry nods. Cho reaches over him, taking a small but well proportioned spoonful of his goulash. She grins as she chews. "Oh you’re right Harry, this is really good."

“Want to try some of mine?” Cedric asks.

“Sure, I’d-- Merlin’s beard, Cedric!” Cho lets out a snort of laughter. Harry peers across her, and to his astonishment there's an enormous slab of chocolate cake on Cedric's plate. 

“What? It was on the menu.” 

“The dessert menu, Cedric!” Cho says, still laughing.

“Dinner, dessert, what does it matter? It’s Christmas. Have a bite, Cho.” Cedric spears a forkful of cake and holds it inches from her lips. Cho, after a moment’s hesitation, opens her mouth.

“Mmm… this is so good,” Cho says, “Harry, you have got to try some.”

“Uh…” Harry starts to politely refuse. After a month this summer spent surviving on progressively staler birthday cake, he can’t say he’s too keen to try it. Cedric's already reaching over Cho and holds his fork in front of him. The sweet, fudgy scent is overpowering, and Cedric’s dimpled smile should be illegal. 

After a round of deliberation, Cho decides on the shepherd’s pie. Though it hardly matters as they spend their meal swapping their plates around. Harry eats his goulash while Percy prattles on to whoever will listen about his new responsibilities since Mr. Crouch promoted him to his personal assistant. He takes a bite of shepherd’s pie while Krum tells Hermione about Durmstrang. He laughs and almost chokes on a forkful of chocolate cake when Dumbledore mentions a secret bathroom on the seventh floor. He washes down all the delicious dishes with a goblet of Pumpkin juice while Cedric and Cho discuss NEWT level classes.

“I think I’ll carry on with Astronomy next year. I really like Professor Sinistra,” Cho says through a mouthful of goulash. “But I’m not sure about Ancient Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“I never took Ancient Runes, so I couldn't tell you what it's like.” Cedric says. “Defense Against the Dark Arts though… honestly, I’m not sure I’d recommend it.”

“Oh no, is it difficult? It’s always been one of my worst subjects.”

“No, it isn’t difficult. It’s-- well the professors have been so hit and miss. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time with someone who doesn't have a clue what they’re doing.”

“Professor Moody’s been great though.”

Harry reaches over Cho for another bite of shepherd’s pie. “Yeah, but he’s only here for one year as a favor to Dumbledore. Who knows what we’re in for next year?”

The three of them share a look, and for a reason Harry can’t place, they all seem to get struck with the same sense of dread.

“What do you want to do after you leave Hogwarts, Cho?” Cedric asks. “That ought to help you decide which classes to take.”

“Oh, it’s silly.” Cho says. She fidgets under the table with her silver bangles.

"Come on, tell us," Harry says.

“Well… I'd like to play seeker on the Tornadoes. Or-- any team really, but if I got a choice I'd want it to be the Tornadoes," Cho sighs, "It isn't very realistic though. I’m not talented enough to play professionally.”

“Cho, what are you talking about? You’re a brilliant seeker,” Harry says.

“Yeah, you flew circles around me the last time we played each other,” Cedric says.

“Oh, well, thank you,” Cho smiles, looking flustered. “But my parents tell me they would prefer I pursue a job in the Ministry. I suppose the Department of Magical Games and Sports wouldn’t be so bad.”

“If that’s what you’re interested in, we could introduce you to Ludo Bagman,” Cedric says and points his spoon at Ludo, who’s at the opposite end of the table chatting with Krum and Professor Karkaroff. 

“Oh… maybe some other time,” Cho says. “What are you studying, Cedric?”

“I haven't completely decided yet, but think I’d like to be a healer," Cedric says before taking a bite of shepherd’s pie.

Cho’s eyes widen. “Wow, I hear that’s supposed to be really difficult.”

Cedric shrugs. “It is a lot of work, but I’ve always found healing magic really fascinating. Like, last week I was reading an article in  _ The Practical Potioneer  _ about chimera blood and how it might be the key ingredient in a remedy for… sorry I’m rambling.”

“It’s alright,” Cho says with something of a dreamy expression similar to the one Roger Davies gets when Fleur is in eyesight.

“Have you thought much about what you want to do, Harry?” Cedric asks.

“Uh… not really.” He shrugs. He can’t say he’s dedicated much time into researching wizarding careers. He can worry about life after Hogwarts once he finished the third task.

"Well you're still in fourth year. There's no rush," Cedric says. 

"Yeah, you'll figure out what you want to do eventually," Cho says.

The feasting continues until everyone’s stomach is full and plate is cleared. Harry chews his last remaining spoonful of goulash when Dumbledore asks them all to stand. With a wave of his wand, he sends the tables soaring toward the walls to make way for a dance floor. with another flick of his wrist a stage appears in the faculty table’s usual spot. Three witches-- they must be The Weird Sisters-- take the stage to a raucous applause, and begin warming up on their instruments.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Cedric offers Harry his arm and a sheepish smile. “Shall we?”

Harry gulps. He wishes now he didn't eat so much. His stomach is queasy, though he's not entirely sure it's because of the food.

“Have fun you two!” Cho calls after them as they make their way to the center of the dance floor.

Harry reaches for Cedric's waist-- then backtracks. Is that where he's supposed to put his hand? Does he lead or follow in this scenario? The procedure is clear when it's a boy and girl dancing. Boy and boy however… they didn't discuss it in his dance lessons. 

The Weird Sisters begin a slow, waltzing tune. Not the music he was expecting based on the band's ripped, black robes. The other champions begin to dance, but he and Cedric stand motionless, looking awkward and out of place.

Harry takes the initiative. He catches Cedric's hand, lacing their fingers together, then places his other hand on his waist. Cedric expression eases into a smile, and he rests his other hand on his shoulder.

"Is this okay?" He asks. 

Cedric nods, and they take their first step.

The music can't quite drown out the confused whispers. A few people stare scandalized at the pair of them. Draco and his gang of Slytherins sneer their way, but he wouldn’t expect anything different from them. In a weird way it's actually kind of comforting. He notices though, the negative reactions are far and few between. Ron gives him a reassuring smile, with Luna waving next to him. Fred and George each give him a thumbs up, and he swears he spots Dumbledore wink at him. Cho is beaming at them with a smile so bright it could make flowers bloom.

“Sorry about all the extra attention,” Harry says once he's got his rhythm down enough to talk.

“It's alright. At least this time if Rita Skeeter writes about your night at the Yule Ball, she can’t forget about me again.”

Harry's smile falters. “Oh… right. Sorry about that too.”

“I was only making a joke.” Cedric says quickly, "I really don't mind that she left me out. It's probably for the better because that article was… um...."

"A load of dragon dung," Harry supplies for him. 

"Exactly!" Cedric laughs. "But Harry, I just want to make it clear, okay. I don't resent you for being in the tournament. I don't think you've stolen my glory-- or whatever people are saying. I think there's room for both of us."

Harry's heart feels light. He's hyper aware of Cedric's calloused fingers linked between his. He resists the urge to look at his feet and instead locks eyes with Cedric. There's only a few inches separating them. He's too close, and yet-- Harry doesn't want to pull away.

The music stops. After a short round of applause the Weird Sisters strike up their second song, which if not for the references to quidditch, it would fit right in at a muggle punk rock concert. His classmates cheer and stream onto the dance floor. They all seem to have forgotten their dance lessons and are jumping up and down in time with the beat.

“Well, I’m going to ask Cho to dance," Cedric shouts over the music. "Unless-- do you want to ask her first, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head. “You guys go ahead.” 

Harry looks over at Cho and is once again in awe of how beautiful she is. Her dress robes gleam under the chandelier lights. Cedric grabs her by the wrist and pulls her onto the dance floor. Harry watches with a grin as they hold hands and jump in time with the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to have this out by Valentine's day but uh... yeah that didn't happen. What was supposed to be one more chapter got ridiculously long, so I've split it into two parts! Expect chapter 3... eventually.
> 
> Also... I might continue this on after the Yule Ball? I def don't have it in me to re-write the entire series, but maybe the rest of Goblet of Fire? Anyway, it's just an idea I'm floating ;) 
> 
> (Oh! And don't worry, if I continue Cedric Diggory will remain alive and happy.)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are super appreciated! Thanks everyone who left them so far! Also! say hi to me [on tumblr!](http://perichat.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

The first thought that strikes Harry once he finishes elbowing his way through the crowd of dancers is: he's alone for the first time tonight.

Harry's not sure what the plan is from here. The three of them didn't actually do much planning. He figures it'll go like this: Cedric and Cho will dance for an undetermined amount of time, then he'll dance with Cho for an undetermined amount of time, and repeat. He and Cedric will swap places until the Ball is over, then they'll bid each other goodnight before heading off alone to their respective common rooms.

If they got together and discussed this hypothetical plan, Cedric would probably say it's the fairest option. Cho would probably say it's the most logical one. Harry doesn't necessarily disagree, but it still leaves something to be desired. It's stiff and formal, less like a date, more like an arrangement. Cho is a person, not a quaffle for him and Cedric to pass around. He doesn't want to spend the night with one eye on his watch, counting the seconds to ensure they split their time with her evenly. Plus there's a part of him, a small, newly formed part he's not sure what to make of, that wants to spend time with Cedric too.

Well, so far the night's proven to be an experiment in improvisation. The best thing to do is stop worrying and let things sort themselves out. It hasn't let him down yet.

Harry finds Ron and Luna at a table near the main doors. It was hard to tell on the jam packed dance floor, but quite a few people hung back to sit and chat over glasses of iced pumpkin juice. The music isn't ear-splittingly loud here. It's possible to have a conversation without shouting over guitars and drum beats. 

"Hello Harry! You and Cedric looked good out there," Luna says.

"Yeah, very smooth," Ron says. 

"Thanks," he says. He grabs the chair next to Ron and plops into it, leaning back and kicking his feet out in front of him. "So I take it you two opted not to dance?"

"Oh right, I forgot to ask!" Ron says. "Hey Luna, wanna dance?"

"Do you?" She asks with a wide-eyed expression.

"I dunno… only if you do, I guess."

"Maybe later then." 

Luna reaches up into her poinsettia wreath and retrieves a rolled-up magazine. Ron rests his elbow on the table and stares off into space. Neither are much for conversation, but he still enjoys their company. And enough people stop to say hello so he's not left lonely. Dean and Seamus sit and chat a while. Their dates, Parvati and Lavender, appear to have ditched them for Beauxbatons boys, but neither seems too fussed over it. Hagrid asks if he liked his Christmas present before dashing off to talk to Madame Maxime. Hermione collapses into the chair next to him, smiling and flushed from dancing. When she asks Ron how his night is going, he's struck with a sudden interest with the bizarre, horned creature on the cover of Luna's magazine. 

"What about you, Harry?" Hermione asks. "How's everything going with Cho and Cedric?"

"Pretty good," he says. "They're off dancing at the moment. I think once they're finished Cho and I will have a go."

Harry's eyes flick over to Cedric and Cho. They're near the stage swaying back and forth with the beat. Their black and silver robes compliment each other nicely. And their smiles, they both have perfect smiles. On their own Cedric and Cho are ridiculously good-looking, but together… it isn't fair how good they look together. 

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione snaps her fingers in front of his face.

"What?" Harry blinks, and forces himself to focus on Hermione. Without realizing it his gaze has drifted to Cedric and Cho. It's not the first time tonight they've made his brain go foggy. He's not staring at them on purpose, it's just where his eyes naturally want to go. 

"I asked what you thought of the music."

"Oh. It's good. I like it."

Hermione stares at him with a curious expression. Before she can figure out who he's looking at, he looks away, though from her knowing smile he thinks he might be too late. His gaze shifts to George Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, who are doing a wild tango across the dance floor. 

"Hey, did Percy and Penelope break up?" He asks. 

"Yeah, he ditched her after he got his job at the Ministry." It's Ginny who answers him. She claims the chair next to Luna, and Neville the one next to her.  

"Oh, your brother doesn't look too happy about it." Hermione points at Percy, who grips his butterbeer with such a tight grip Harry's concerned it might shatter. Ron's face shifts to a similar expression as Viktor Krum approaches their table.

"Herm-own-ninny," he says. He offers Hermione his arm. "Vould you like to dance again?"

"Oh yes! Let's go, Viktor," Hermione takes his arm with one hand and waves goodbye to them with the other. 

Ron scoffs once they're out of earshot. " _ Viktor? _ Since when has she called him that?"

"I thought you liked Viktor Krum, Ron," Neville says. 

"He's fine," Ron says through gritted teeth.

"I don't blame you for not liking him," Luna says. "That fur collar would attract an awful lot of nargles, especially with all this mistletoe around."

Ginny snorts, "That's not it, Luna. Ron's just jealous."

Ron sputters, "Jealous? Why?  Just because he's a famous quidditch player--"

"A famous quidditch player who's dancing with Hermione Granger."

"So what? Hermione can dance with whoever she bloody well pleases."

"See, he's jealous." Ginny leans into Luna's ear and says in a mock stage whisper. 

"Shut up! I am not jealous!" 

"Merlin, why can't you act more like Harry, Ron? His date's off dancing with someone else and you don't see him acting like a jealous git."

Harry shrugs, "That's because I'm not jealous." 

And he isn't. Not exactly. Sure, he'd like to dance with Cho, but not if it means shoving Cedric out of the picture. He'd like to be on the dance floor with them instead of staring at them from the outskirts. He'd like to grow an extra pair of arms so he can dance with both at the same time. What he's feeling is excluded, and confused. Definitely a bit confused

"So uh… what exactly is a nargle?" Neville asks. Harry sighs in relief, glad someone broke the tension.

He only half-listens to Luna's ramble. Nargles are tiny winged creatures that something something something or other. Where are Cedric and Cho? He scans the dance floor but they're nowhere to be found. He tries again, and again, then glances around the Great Hall. There, Cedric's by the refreshments table laughing with two other boys. Harry recognizes one as a beater on the Hufflepuff quidditch team, the other is unfamiliar. Cho isn't with them though, which means she must be...

She's 20 feet in front of him, walking with purpose towards his table. Her hair has started to come undone from her updo, but it only makes her look more lovely. His mind flashes images of her hair after quidditch practice, all messy and windswept.

"Want to dance?" Cho says. She smiles, then glances at his tablemates who are wrapped up in a loud discussion about nargles. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No, let's dance. Or-- do you want to sit down first? I could get you a drink or a pastry?"

She shakes her head. "Cedric already offered. I'm fine, I promise." 

"Alright, lets dance."

The Weird Sisters play a soft, slow tune. Harry's reminded of those Celestina Warbeck songs Mrs. Weasley likes. Everyone is coupled up and dancing close in a far less coordinated and formal way than his waltz with Cedric. 

Harry thought he kicked the nervousness from his system. He successfully completed one dance without stepping on his partner's toes or tripping over his feet. It shouldn't be too hard to do it again. The only difference is he's substituting Cedric with Cho. Cho Chang, the girl he's fancied for months. All she has to do is smile in his direction and butterflies burst to life in his stomach. 

It's not dancing that's making him nervous not, it's the person he's dancing with.

He puts his hands on her waist, delicately so his fingertips just graze the fabric of her dress robes. Cho wraps her arms around his neck, her silk sleeves soft on his skin. They sway in slow, easy circles. Harry smiles, and she smiles back. Her eyes are deep brown, almost black, and her eyelashes are long and delicate. Harry notices for the first time a faint scar running along her chin.

"I got it in a quidditch accident. Fred Weasley lobbed a bludger at my face. Or was it George? I don't remember," Cho says. "You were staring, so I thought I'd explain."

"Oh sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's alright. I've been staring at your forehead so..."

Harry laughs, "I suppose you already know how I got the scar?"

"Yeah, I may have heard the story once or twice." 

The Weird Sisters strike up a new song, this one faster. Harry bobs his head and bounces his knees, feeling a little lost in all of this. He's not used to this kind of dancing, where there aren't any steps to follow and everyone seems to just flail around. Cho sways along in time with the music, her movements smooth and graceful.

"I've always thought you were really brave, you know," She says, shouting to be heard over the music.

"For what? Not dying when Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby?"

Cho doesn't flinch at his name, the way he's so used to other wizards doing. "Not exactly. I remember in my second year you took on that mountain troll. And then just last month you faced off against a dragon."

"But I wasn't trying to be brave or anything. I really didn't put my name in for the Tournament, you know."

"I know. There's no way you could have gotten past Professor Dumbledore's age line." 

"So you know I didn't do it to be brave or anything."

"It doesn't matter. Actions speak louder than intentions. You were forced into a terrifying situation, and instead of shrinking away you faced it head on. That's what bravery is, don't you think?"

He wants to dispute her. He opens his mouth to say she's wrong, but she grabs one of his hands and raises his arm into the air. She spins underneath it. Harry grins and twirls her again, and again, faster and faster. Her dress robes flare out, the gemstones glittering under the spotlights. Cho laughs, and Harry wishes the band would stop playing and everyone would stop talking because her laugh is the only thing he wants to hear.

Harry finds to his surprise dancing is kind of fun. After a few songs he stops worrying he doesn't know what he's doing. Everyone else looks just as silly, and they're having the time of their lives looking foolish together. Most of the Weird Sisters' music is loud, and fast. He and Cho dance in sync next to each other. Once in a while though, there's a slow song mixed in. Those are his favorites. Harry can hold her close and count the freckles dotting her nose.

"I think I need a break from all this music," Cho says, after one loud song ends and another louder one begins, "My eardrums are throbbing." 

"Want to get a drink?"

Cho nods. He takes her hand and they head for the refreshment table. Cedric's still talking to the same friends as earlier. When he spots them heading over he pours three glasses of iced pumpkin juice. Cho takes one. He takes the other, and swallows half the goblet in three long gulps. Dancing is more tiring than he thought. He's quite warm, and his robes are damp around the collar from sweat, which he hopes neither of his dates notice.

Wait a moment-- did he just refer to Cho  _ and _ Cedric as his dates? 

"Want to go for a walk?" Cedric asks. "I haven't had a chance to look at the rose garden yet, but I hear it's nice."

"Sure," Cho says. 

And that's his cue to leave, he thinks. Cho and Cedric can go on their romantic stroll while he sits with Ron and Luna until it's time to swap again. Except Ron and Luna aren't at their table. Crabbe and Goyle now occupy their chairs, sitting slumped over and fast asleep. Ron and Luna's outfits are distinct enough he should find them easy, but they aren't at any of the other tables or on the dance floor. He doesn't see Ginny or Neville around either. Hermione is dancing with Krum. Fred and George are wrapped up in a conversation with Ludo Bagman. 

"Hey Harry, are you coming?" Cho asks. Cedric motions him to come over with his free hand. Harry picks up his drink and bounds after them. 

Harry's never noticed this place before. Was it built just for the ball? It's all twinkling fairy lights, winding cobblestone paths, and roses in full bloom. There's no trace of the music inside, only owls hooting and water trickling in a distant fountain. It's snowing, but the surrounding air is warm like a sunny spring afternoon. Tiny snowflakes land in his hair and on his shoulders, melting on contact and evaporating away before his robes get damp. 

The pathway is short-- Harry would guess a few hundred yards at most-- but each loop around it brings something different. They'll come across a statue they didn't see before, or a rosebush with flowers in a unique color, or a new face. A group of Ravenclaws on a stone bench wave at Cho. Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet wish him a happy holidays, as do Katie Bell and a girl Cedric refers to as Leanne. Madame Maxime cuts through them, alone and looking upset. Some 50 feet ahead of them a group of people dash out from a clump of hedges. Harry counts four of them, two with ginger hair, but they're gone before he's close enough to say hello. 

On their sixth or seventh loop-- Harry's lost count-- they come across a fork in the path. The trickling water gets louder as they follow it, and they find themselves in front of a tall, marble fountain and several stone benches. On one of them sits an enormous silhouette. It's Hagrid, staring down at the pool of water. Harry walks over, his smile fading the closer he gets. Hagrid's eyes are red-rimmed and watery. He stuffs something small and silver into one of his pockets, and Harry catches a strong whiff of alcohol.

"Hagrid, are you alright?" He asks.

"Wha? Yeah I'm-- I'm fine." Hagrid stands, wobbly on his legs. He stumbles off not towards the castle, but towards his cabin in the opposite direction.

Harry takes a mental note to check on Hagrid tomorrow. He sits down on the bench. Right in the middle. He freezes, immediately aware of his mistake. The middle is Cho's spot so she can sit next to both of her dates, and so he and Cedric won't accidentally brush elbows. Except neither of them seem to mind. They smile and sit next to him, Cedric on his left, Cho on his right.

"So Harry, who's the better dancer? Me or Cedric?" Cho asks.

"I could ask you the same question."

Cho smirks at him and sips her iced pumpkin juice, not saying anything.

"She asked me the same question earlier," Cedric says. "I told her I thought you were both terrific." 

"Then I'll take a leaf out of your book. You were both terrific."

None of them seem to know what to say after that. Cedric glances down at their reflection in the pool, Cho runs her fingers through her hair, attempting to put her top knot back together. He takes a drink of pumpkin juice. He's never been good at filling the gaps in conversation, at least, not with people he doesn't know very well. 

"So… would you guys like to play a game?" Cho asks.

"What did you have in mind?" He asks.

"It's called Never Have I Ever," Cho says. "One of us says something they've never done before, and if you've done it you take a drink. I used to play it with my muggle friends all the time, it's fun."

"Sounds easy enough," he says. Cedric nods in agreement.

"Alright I'll go first," Cho says. "Never have I ever owned an owl."

Harry raises his glass, and waves away a fat beetle that's settled on its rim before taking a drink.

"Do you mean a personal owl, or just any owl at all?" Cedric asks, "Because my family has an owl, but Persephone isn't exclusively mine."

"If you're allowed to use her, it counts," Cho says. "My Mum's got an owl, but Bao is strictly for ministry business and if I want to mail something I've got to go to the owlery."

"Fair enough." Cedric sips from his goblet, "I'll go next. Never have I ever uh… had black hair."

Cho laughs, "Cedric, you're not supposed to say things you already know the answer to. This is supposed to be a way to get to know each other."

"Okay let's try again… never have I ever used a compooper." 

He and Cho let out a snort of laughter. Cedric gives them a confused look.

"Sorry, what did you call it?" He asks, trying to rein in his amusement.

"A compooper. You know, that muggle thing with the picture box and typing keys?"

"It's pronounced computer, Cedric," Cho says.

"I should have known Kaz was lying when he said that's what it's called," Cedric says. "You obviously know what I meant though, so drink up."

Cho takes a quick sip. Harry has to think a moment. He's not sure he ever got to use the clunky computer in Dudley's bedroom. Dudley would have killed him if he did, and since he's still very much alive, he lowers his glass.

"Alright my turn," he says. "Never have I ever… lost a game of quidditch to Slytherin."

"Ouch. Way to rub salt in the wound." Cho says. She and Cedric both drink from their glasses.

"Wait, no. I should say something else," he says. He remembers now, he was at the games where they lost. Cho missed the snitch by inches. She probably would have won if Malfoy didn't have a better broom. Cedric's attention was divided. He had to seek and keep after Bole "accidentally" knocked out the Hufflepuff keeper.

"It's alright," Cedric says. "I'll admit, my debut as team captain wasn't as good as I hoped. But you guys watch, I'll redeem myself next year."

"Bring it on!" Cho says. "Okay... never have I ever left my common room after curfew."

Harry takes a long gulp. It feels appropriate, given how many times he's snuck out under the cover of his invisibility cloak. Cedric takes a swig too, his face looking a bit flushed as he lowers his glass.

"What's this? Aren't you prefects supposed to be role models for the rest of us?" Cho asks.

"Well uh… one of the perks of being a prefect is having a nice bathroom. And I like to use it when no one else is around, which is usually after curfew." 

"So you're risking detention and house points for a hot bath?"

"Hey, it's not the worst reason to could sneak out. Some people like to sneak out to take part in midnight duels." Cedric casts a shifty grin his way.

"That was one time! In my first year!" He says. "I didn't think anyone else knew about that."

"I have my sources," Cedric says. "Alright let's see... never have I ever had a detention." 

He and Cho each take a drink.

"So what sort of mischief have you two gotten into?" Cedric asks.

"My only crime was running into Filch when he was in a foul mood," Cho says. "He gave the  Ravenclaw quidditch team detention for tracking mud into the castle."

"And you Harry?"

"Well, I got caught out of bed after curfew--"

"For your midnight duel?" Cho asks.

"No, for sneaking a dragon up to the astronomy tower. I also mouthed off to Professor Snape, crashed a car into the whomping willow, and uh… that's everything, I think."

"That's… wow.  How have you not been expelled?" Cedric asks, laughing.

Cho shrugs, "Honestly, I was expecting more."

And it's his turn again. He's never traveled abroad, taken arithmancy, tried firewhisky. He hasn't been to a British and Irish Quidditch League game or checked a book out of the restricted section in the library. Harry taps his fingers on his glass and weighs his options. 

"Never have I ever kissed anyone."

He's not sure where it came from, but now that it's out there, it's a question he wants the answer to. Cho bites her lip and runs her thumb along the rim of her goblet. Cedric looks at him, then Cho, then the small bit of pumpkin juice in his glass. 

"Really? Neither of you?" He asks. They shake their heads.

"But I thought--" Cho says. She turns towards him. "Harry, wasn't Hermione your girlfriend? I read in  _ The Prophet  _ that--"

"I can assure you whatever you read isn't true," he says. "Hermione and I have always just been friends, nothing more."

"What about you and Davies, Cho?" Cedric asks. "Didn't you two used to go out?"

Cho shakes her head. "He asked me once, but I turned him down. My friends thought I was crazy, but I'm not into him that way."

"And you, Cedric?" Harry asks. "You've never kissed anyone?"

"I've never dated anyone before. I guess I'm just waiting…" Cedric trails off. He glances at Cho, then at him, and his lips curl into the tiniest smile. 

"Waiting for what?" Cho asks.

"Waiting for the right someone to come along." 

Around them the fairy lights dim until they're sitting in near darkness. Their only light now comes from the windows to the Great Hall. The three of them glance around with puzzled expressions. Cho shivers next to him, and Harry notices the drop in temperature. He checks his watch. Five minutes to midnight. 

"We should head back inside," he says. 

Cedric and Cho nod in agreement, and they follow the path back to the castle. They pass a few classmates in the entryway, yawning as they head for their common rooms. The refreshment table has been cleared away. The Weird Sisters address the crowd, saying thank you for being invited to play.

"Alright, it's the last song of the night. I want to see everyone up on their feet!" The lead guitarist says. 

And it's like the same thought passes through their heads simultaneously. They don't have to say anything, they know what to do. Cho takes his left hand and Cedric's right. He and Cedric glance at each other before clasping hands and completing the circle. 

The song is slow, but upbeat. It's an appropriate choice to close out the night with, he thinks. The three of them sway side to side, standing as close as they can get without huddling on top of each other. He can't decide which of them to look at. He locks eyes with Cho, then Cedric, then Cho again. Cho's hands are smaller than his, Cedric's larger, but they're both warm and they have the same broomstick calluses on their fingertips.

At the song's end the Great Hall bursts into applause. There are shouts for an encore. It almost looks like The Weird Sisters will oblige, but Professor McGonagall rushes on stage and whispers something into the lead guitarist's ear. And with that the Ball is officially over. 

"Thanks for tonight," Cho says, shouting to be heard over the crowd of people in the entryway. "We should do this again sometime, the three of us I mean."

Harry nods, "Yeah, I think there's a Hogsmeade visit in January." 

"We should all go flying when the weather's nice," Cedric says. "I haven't been on a broom in ages."

"Definitely!" Cho says, smiling. "Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight you two."

Cedric opens his arms for a hug, but Cho takes him by surprise with a quick kiss on the cheek. Even standing on her tiptoes her lips barely reach his face. Cedric's cheeks tinge pink, and he bursts into a fit of giggles.

Cho turns to him. He grins, feeling awkward. He knows what's coming, and it only makes him more nervous. Cho's lips are soft and feather light, and he can still feel them brushing against his cheek after she's pulled away.

Cho waves at them before dashing up the stairs. She meets up with a group of girls at the top and they head in the direction he thinks is Ravenclaw tower.

"I should probably head off too." Cedric says. He offers his hand and Harry takes it.

"Before you go… what exactly did you mean with your hint about the egg?"

"Sorry, I know it was vague," he sighs. "Well, you were blunt with me about the dragons so... let me try this again. The egg's singing mermish. Dunk it underwater and you'll be able to understand it."

"Thanks, I'll try that." 

"You can use the prefect's bathroom if you want. It's on the fifth floor. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered. The password's pine fresh."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Cedric leans closer. They're still clasping hands, but they've given up the pretense of a handshake. Harry wonders if he's going to kiss him. And he wonders if he'd mind if he did. 

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

"It's December 26th, Cedric."

"Happy Boxing Day then." 

Cedric grins at him, his smile all dimples and perfect teeth. Then he stuffs his hands in his pockets and heads off for his common room. And Harry finds himself alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be more!! I haven't decided yet if it's going to be a chapter four, or if I'll split it into a series so uh... stick around for the thrilling conclusion.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are super appreciated! Thanks everyone who left them so far! Also! say hi to me [on tumblr!](http://perichat.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh... this chapter got really delayed. 
> 
> Sorry about that.
> 
> Partially because I got sidetracked by other projects, and partially because I had a bit of a hard time figuring out how to make this work. I want things to deviate from the book somewhat-- because events are obviously different now-- but I also want to keep things close to the plot bc I don't feel like completely rewriting GoF (and possibly beyond?). So this is my compromise. You won't be able to pick up all the foreshadowing of Moody being Crouch anymore, but y'all are just here to see Harry smooch Cho and Cedric anyway so... that's ok.
> 
> I'm going to try to get in one more chapter before Nano, and then I'll probably disappear for a few months.
> 
> Thanks Cyan for beta-ing/Brit-picking.

As Harry climbs through the portrait hole, he half expects he'll stumble into a raucous after party. There were all sorts of rumors leading up to the Ball: The Weird Sisters' drummer would come up and sign autographs, a group of seventh years smuggled in a barrel of Madam Rosmerta's oak-mulled mead, Fred and George invented something even more explosive than Filibuster Fireworks. 

Instead he's greeted by a few hushed conversations and the soft crackle of a slowly dying fire. Most of his housemates look like they could fall asleep standing up. They skip the common room and go yawning up the stairs to bed. Ron is one of the handful who stuck around. He's claimed a spot on the sofa by the hearth, and picks at the frayed edges of his sleeves. He smiles as Harry plops beside him.

"Hey! How'd it go with you and Cho? And uh… Cedric?" Ron's question ends with a shoulder shrug and lilt in his voice. Like there's more he wants to ask, but he isn't sure how to phrase it. A boundary in their usual rapport he doesn't want to cross if Harry isn't ready. And he's not-- at least not right now. 

"It was good. What about you? You and Luna hit it off?"

Ron laughs, "She is an odd one. Did you see that magazine she was reading? And then in the middle of the evening she dragged us all outside to find this… hovering blimdigger thing."

"Did you find it?"

"Well... no. But we overheard Hagrid and Madame Maxime talking, and Harry, you're not going to believe this! Hagrid is--"

"Hello, did you have a nice evening?" Hermione grins at them. Some of the charm's come off her hair, and while still very pretty, she's much more recognizable. Ron stares at her with a somewhat starstruck look for just a moment before his face falls flat.

"I'm going to bed," he says. 

"Wait, what were you saying about Hagrid?" Harry asks.

"I'll tell you later," he grumbles. Hermione watches crestfallen as he marches up the stairs.

"For what it's worth, it sounded like he had a nice time," he says.

"That's good," Hermione gives him a weak smile, and takes Ron's spot on the sofa. 

"So… you and Krum? When did that happen?"

Hermione smiles sheepishly, "I'm afraid it's not that interesting, really. We met in the library a couple weeks ago and chatted about wizarding history books. I'd much rather hear about your evening. How did things go with Cho and Cedric?"

"They were alright."

"Just alright?" She scrunches her nose and stares at him the way she does her Ancient Runes homework, like he's a tricky translation in need of deciphering. 

"Yeah, we had a nice time."

"Do you plan on seeing them again?"

He nods.

"Both of them?"

"You know what, I think I'll head off to bed now."

Hermione purses her lips and gives him an unamused stare, as if to say 'This conversation isn't over yet.', but she doesn't push him to keep sharing. Instead she retrieves from her clutch a pair of knitting needles and a small bundle of yarn and starts on another one of her elf hats. 

As Harry climbs into bed, he thinks of the golden egg stashed away in his trunk.  _ "The egg's singing in Mermish. Dunk it underwater and you'll be able to understand it. _ " He could solve the egg right now-- if he wanted to. Which… he'd rather not be the jerk who wakes up the whole of Gryffindor house at 1 AM the day after Christmas. And he wasn't lying when he told Hermione he was tired. His bed is so warm and cozy, he's already made himself comfortable. 

Harry's last thought before drifting off to sleep is: he can sort it out first thing tomorrow. 

\--

He doesn't sort it out tomorrow. 

Nor does he sort it out the next day. Or the day after that. "Tomorrow" turns into the Sunday before term starts. 

His holiday break gets consumed with other important pursuits, such as snowball fights or cozy chats by the fire side. He doesn't forget about the task, per se. Once or twice a day he'll think  _ "Oh, I should work out the egg clue" _ , and then he will go back to his transfiguration homework or game of exploding snap or whatever is holding his attention at the moment. It's not like he has to solve it right this instant, the next task isn't for another two months. 

Hermione is… less than thrilled when he explains his logic. And Ron, who Harry thought would be on his side, goes along with Hermione when she orders him to work it out before term starts. 

If all Harry has to do is dunk the egg in water, the sinks in the dormitory bathroom will suit him fine. Grateful as he is for Cedric's invitation to the prefect's bathroom, it's not worth getting caught out of bounds over. He waits until evening, when most of his housemates have left for dinner, and gives those remaining a warning so they don't mistake any potential wailing as a murder attempt in the bathroom. Harry fills a sink almost full, plops in the egg, and hopes for the best as he unscrews the top. 

It doesn't scream, but it doesn't do much else either. From inside the egg there's a faint, white glow, and a few fat bubbles ripple to the surface. It makes what can best be described as melodic gurgling noises. Is it a song? For the next task will he have to sing in front of the entire school? In that case, he'd rather save himself the embarrassment and ask for a rematch with the Hungarian Horntail. 

No, that's not right. The clue is the lyrics. If he dunked his head underwater he could hear it clearer-- except there isn't enough space in the sink for his head and the egg. He needs a bigger basin. The dormitory bathroom only has showers so he's left with two options: take a dip in the freezing cold lake, or visit the prefect's bathroom.

At least tomorrow his first class is History of Magic. He can use it to catch up on the sleep loses from sneaking out tonight.

The common room doesn't clear out until well after midnight. A quick glance at the Marauder's Map shows Filch and Mrs. Norris in the north tower, Peeves in the kitchen, and Snape in his office. Harry clears the map, throws on his cloak, and with the egg in one hand and a towel in the other, he sneaks out the portrait hole into the hallway. 

It's apparent upon entering the bathroom Harry's earlier space constraints are no longer an issue. In the center of the room there's a bathtub the size of a small swimming pool. It's already full. The air is warm and smells oddly of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish. He wonders if the bath is enchanted to start when someone walks in, until he notices someone sitting by the far edge staring straight at where he's standing.

"Er... hello?"

They can't see him, obviously, but they must know someone is there. Even in the wizarding world where paintings talk and staircases move, doors don't open and close on their own volition. If it were anyone else Harry would make a subtle exit, but he recognizes their voice, and as Harry's eyes adjust to the lighting he can make out their face. 

Harry takes off his cloak, "Hello Cedric, fancy running into you here."

He hasn't seen much of Cedric or Cho since the Ball. Which makes sense-- he's spent most of his break lounging around Gryffindor common room. It's not until recently Harry's considered the obstacles in having friends in another house. You can't eat meals with them, you can't talk to them after curfew, if you're in the same year you might get a class or two with them, but even that's up to luck of the draw.

"Harry? Merlin, you sure know how to give someone a heart attack." 

"Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here," The bathroom was empty when he checked the Map ten minutes ago. He was hoping to avoid this exact situation.

"It's alright, I should have mentioned the door. When the handle is turned upside down it means someone's in here. That's how we all avoid walking in on each other," Cedric says. "So, I'm guessing you're here to work out the egg?"

"Yeah, but since you're already here I'll come back tomorrow."

"No, it's fine. I'm just about done actually," Cedric sounds sincere, but Harry knows he's lying. He's been in this bathroom less than ten minutes, making him either the world's fastest bather, or the world's most polite one. 

"No, I'll leave. I don't want to kick you out of your own bathroom."

"It's not  _ my _ bathroom, and I've got no problem with leaving so you can sort out the egg."

"You're certain? I really don't mind coming back later."

"I'm absolutely certain," Cedric wades over to him. His shoulders peek out from under the foamy water. There's minty green soap suds stuck in his hair. "Uh… do you mind turning around for a moment?"

_ Oh. _

Harry spins on his heel and shuts his eyes. He's only now aware of the fact the Cedric probably isn't wearing anything under that thick layer of foam. There's a tightness in his throat, like he's going to suffocate from this thick, steamy air. Water splashes and sloshes from somewhere behind him, then there's the pattering of bare feet on marble tile, and the soft ruffling of fabric.

"Okay, you can turn around," Cedric is still pulling his pajama shirt on. Harry catches a quick glimpse of his navel. 

"It was uh… nice running into you," Harry says.

"Yeah, you too. Hopefully we'll run into each other a little bit more-- just maybe not in the bathroom next time." Cedric's hand is on the door when Harry remembers-- Peeves. According to the Map he's mucking around in the kitchen, which is across the hall from the Hufflepuff common room.

"Cedric, hang on, let me give you an escort."

He's never used the cloak with someone who isn't Ron or Hermione. He'd forgotten how little space there is under here, and the degree of closeness required for everything to stay hidden. Water from Cedric's still damp hair drips onto Harry's shirt. He can smell the soap on his skin. Their shoulders are pressed together, and the backs of their hands brush against each other. It would be easy to lace their fingers together-- and he shakes the thought of walking hand-in-hand with Cedric Diggory out of his head.  

They make it to the Hufflepuff common room without incident. Hermione will be pleased to know Peeves left the house elves undisturbed. Cedric stops him in front of a row of large, wooden barrels, which Harry surmises must mask the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Thanks for the escort," Cedric says."This cloak is nifty. No wonder you sneak out so often." 

"I don't sneak out that often," he says, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance.

Cedric grins at him, "Well, best of luck with the egg. By the way, I recommend the third tap from the right. It's infused with amortentia."

Cedric's suggestion is an underwhelming one. It's a clear, oily substance that doesn't fizz or bubble, nor does it have a distinct scent. The other taps smell something specific: citrus, lavender, peppermint. The amortentia-infused stuff is a chameleon blend of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, Cho's perfume, and Cedric's cologne from the ball. 

Harry finds it hard to concentrate on the egg with this aroma wafting around. By the time he solves it, the scent has vanished and the bathwater's turned lukewarm.

\--

Harry's first move the next morning is to ask Ron and Hermione if there's a magical way to breathe underwater. Between Hermione's booksmarts and Ron's knowledge of the wizarding world, one of them must have the answer. 

Except he doesn't get the chance. At breakfast they're distracted by Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins snickering over a copy of  _ The Prophet _ . Which turns into them fuming over Rita's exposé on Hagrid. Which turns into a full week of damage control and several attempts to console Hagrid because he's not answering his door. Then Harry can finally turn his attention back to the egg. 

And it turns out neither Ron nor Hermione have an immediate solution. 

"I've never heard of anything like that," Ron says. 

"Nor have I," Hermione says, "but I know of a few spellbooks we could try."

They spend all of January tearing through all the spellbooks in the library. Come February they have nothing to show for it. What are the priorities of some of these wizards? There are whole tomes of nothing but the most useless spells. Harry's found ways to unboil an egg, make his enemies talk in Haikus for an hour,  _ seven _ different spells to turn his toenails bright pink, but nothing to breathe underwater. 

"Okay, clearly a spell isn't the answer," Ron says, "perhaps transfiguration?"

The books in the library on human transfiguration are so complex even Hermione is left scratching her head at a few of them. They practice for two weeks straight, and all Harry ever manages is to make a few scales appear on his feet. He asks Professor McGonagall for advice, and she tells him flat out he's not skilled enough to perform human transfiguration. Still determined, he writes to "Snuffles" with a plea for help. His response comes back three days later, and it's basically a kinder version of Professor McGonagall's spiel. 

The pressure is building, and Harry is running out of time. He's getting less and less sleep every night. It shouldn't be this frustrating to find a solution to such a simple problem. Hermione starts studying spell creation theory. Ron suggests he try to accio an aqua lung. It's a joke, but maybe, just maybe...

And that's how the night before the second task they end up out in the cold, hoping beyond all hope to see a scuba tank whizzing towards them.

"Harry this isn't going to work," Hermione says, "Let's go back to the library and keep looking."

"I suppose you're right," Harry says. "Wait-- what if instead of summoning an aqua lung, I transfigured something into one?"

Hermione sighs, "You can't transfigure random objects into muggle things, it's illegal." 

"Yeah, and it can go really badly if you don't know what you're doing," Ron says. "My Dad told me about a bloke who tried to transfigure a broomstick into a muggle bicycle and he nearly died because the thing bucked him over a cliff."

"Fine, then what if I used polyjuice potion?"

"And transform into what?" Ron asks.

"A merperson. There's mermaid hair in the student cupboard."

"Polyjuice potion only works with human transformations, you know that," Hermione says.

"It sort of works. As long as I get their gills who cares if I end up in the hospital wing for a few weeks?"

"Who cares?" Hermione shouts. "Harry, you could seriously injure yourself doing that!"

"Or you could end up with a tail and no gills and you'll just look extremely stupid," Ron says. "Besides, it took us a month to brew it last time, and I don't fancy breaking into Snape's private stores to steal the ingredients again."

"Okay fine! No polyjuice potion and no aqua lung. But there's got to be a solution, something we haven't thought of yet, something completely out of the box. Maybe something so stupid it might just work…. Maybe… hey Ron, what ever happened to your Dad's car?" 

He shrugs, "I think it's still running wild in the forbidden forest. Why?"

"Well--I mean, if it can fly, maybe it could work underwater too?"

Hermione looks like a howler about to explode, "Are you  _ seriously  _ suggesting we traipse around the forbidden forest  _ at night _ to find an  _ illegally charmed car,  _ and try to fix it so it can work underwater?"

"Well when you put it like that..." 

So they return to the library, though Harry's not sure what good it will do. At least it's quiet here. Professor McGonagall gave him special permission to use the library overnight. Being as it's Friday night, there's never been more than a handful of students around. Even Madam Pince snuck out a few hours ago and never came back. When they left to summon the aqua lung, they were the only ones there. Which makes it a bit of a shock when someone is pouring out cups of tea at their vacated study table.

"Cho?" 

Harry can feel his cheeks burning. He fixes his glasses, which have fallen askew, and tries to smooth out his hair. Is there a window around he can jump out of? If it were any other night he would be thrilled to see her. But he's on the verge of a breakdown and hasn't showered in three days. 

"Hello! I wondered where you guys went." Cho says. 

"What are you doing here?"

She points at a plate of pastries, "I didn't see you at dinner tonight. I figured you're probably pretty hungry." 

Ron grabs a pastry and stuffs it into his mouth. He's about to have another when he spots Hermione glaring at him. He gives her a sheepish smile, his front teeth coated in strawberry jam, and puts it back on the plate. 

"Thanks, but I'm really not that hungry," he says. He can't think of food at a time like this.

"Is everything alright?" Cho asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

"You're certain? Because I've seen you in the library every night this week, and I know you've been skipping meals." 

"I'm okay. You don't need to worry about--"

"Actually, do you know any spells that let people breathe underwater?" Hermione asks. Harry shoots her a glare. She shrugs.

"Uh… no, I don't think so," she says, furrowing her brows. "But I might know of a potion."

"A potion?" 

They hadn't given the idea of a potion much more than a passing thought. Spells and transfiguration give him multiple chances to practice in order to get it right, whereas with a potion he has one shot, and even one small mistake could be dire. The only person who could offer him advice is Snape, and depending on his mood he might just leave him to drown. 

But he trusts Cho.

She nods, "It's called the… aquilius potion? Or the aquillium potion? I don't remember its exact name, but I know I read about it over break when I was studying for my OWLs."

"Do you remember what book it was in?" Hermione asks.

"No, but I do remember the author, Acacia Abbott."

It turns out Acacia Abbott was a prolific potioneer who authored twelve volumes of potions. Twelve extremely thick, extremely heavy volumes. A book this dense would normally take Harry days to read. He has less than 12 hours, and he has to get through three of them.

At least he has some direction, a specific thing with a name to look for instead of an idea. It's the only thing motivating him to skim through page after page after page. They work in silence. Ron sneaks another pastry when he thinks no one is looking. Cho ties her shiny, black hair into a pony tail. She looks up from her book and smiles at him, and he realizes he's been staring. 

Harry's almost done with his first volume when the clock strikes midnight. Ron's on par with him, and Cho and Hermione are already on their second. Just as he starts thinking he might actually pull this off, the library doors swing open. Professor McGonagall, followed by a boy with shaggy, brown hair who Harry recognizes as one of Cedric's friends.

"Professor? Is everything alright?" Hermione asks. 

"Yes… everything is fine, but I need you and Mr. Weasley to come with me to my office," she says. Something seems a bit off about her. Perhaps something's upset her? Or maybe she's just tired from the late hour?

"What for?" Ron asks.

"I'll explain in my office."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Professor McGonagall sighs, "No Mr. Weasley, I'm afraid it can't."

Ron and Hermione collect their things, and give him and Cho one last pitying look goodbye as they follow Professor McGonagall out of the library. With them go any chance of Harry finding the right potion. His workload is doubled. He can't read five books and brew a potion in nine hours. Harry closes his book and resists the urge to chuck it across the room. Instead he lets out a long, heavy sigh and slumps into his chair.  

"Hey, don't look so defeated." Cho pats his forearm, and offers him a pastry. "Come on, you'll feel better after you eat something."

Harry offers her a weak smile, "I really appreciate everything you've done for me tonight, Cho, but it's getting late. You should head up to your common room."

She shakes her head, "I want to help you."

"I think I'm beyond help at this point. Even if we manage to find the potion, there's no guarantee we'll be able to make it. It might need really rare ingredients, or it might be too complex to understand. I'm already lousy at potions…" 

Cho purses her lips, "Have you ever noticed how a lot of people say that-- that they're bad at potions?"

"I guess. What of it?"

"I've got a theory. Maybe the reason so many people claim to be bad at potions has nothing to do with their talent, and everything to do with the fact that we have a rubbish professor."

And for the first time in what must be weeks, Harry laughs.

"I'm not saying he isn't a talented potioneer-- he just can't teach. He has the same problem as some of my housemates, where they love to show off and their knowledge but they're not interested in sharing it with anyone. They just want people to respect them and think they're smart and… anyway I'm rambling."

"No, please, go on. Nothing makes me happier than listening to someone criticize Snape."

Cho laughs, "Well... I guess he could stand to wash his hair a bit more. And have you ever noticed he always favors the Slytherins?"

"Yes!" he says, "I sure wish Professor McGonagall would give us the same treatment."

"Same with Professor Flitwick. If anything he's tougher on us."

"Really? He seems so easy-going. It's hard to imagine him being strict with anyone." 

"He rarely gets cross with us, he just has high expectations. He sees our potential, and wants us to succeed. Just like I want you to tomorrow." Cho beams at him with admiration. Harry can feel his heart flutter. Then her smile slips to something mischievous, and she holds a pastry under his nose. "Come on, this one's got chocolate filling."

He reaches for the pastry and takes a tentative bite. It's still got that fresh out of the oven warmth. And he's not sure if it's the pastry or Cho smiling next to him, but some of his earlier hopefulness has actually returned. He skims through the final pages of the first potions volume and opens up the second. 

He's determined. 

He can do this. 

He's… going to fall asleep. 

Harry's eyelids feel heavier with every page he turns. He shouldn't have stayed up so late these past few days. Every few minutes he has to shake himself awake. He snacks on pastries to stay alert. Which works up until he finishes the entire plate, and then without meaning to, he nods off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did consider for a while having Harry use the car for the second task and have Cho help him fix it up. But my very lovely beta talked me out of it, and I'm grateful bc boy that would have been dumb.
> 
> I figured since Cedric and Cho aren't officially dating (yet), someone else would be his "thing he'd miss". Also I wanted Cho around for the library scene, so there's that. The brown-haired boy is someone who miiight return later on, depending on how far I go with this.
> 
> Comments/kudos are appreciated!


End file.
